Nearly an hour passed.
The dense forest gradually thinned.
The uneven woodland trail slowly gave way to a well-traveled road.
Wheel tracks carved deep grooves through the packed dirt.
The occasional merchant carriage rumbled past.
Travelers walked in both directions.
Some carried supplies.
Others led pack animals laden with cargo.
None paid the group more than a passing glance.
Draven remained at the front.
His disguised appearance attracted no attention whatsoever.
To everyone around them—
he was simply another traveler.
Far ahead—
massive stone walls slowly came into view.
Dresvalle.
The city's towering walls stretched across the landscape.
Watchtowers overlooked the surrounding plains.
Colorful banners fluttered lazily in the morning breeze.
Merchants and travelers steadily passed through the open gates.
Soldiers patrolled atop the walls.
Others stood guard below.
The group quietly joined the line of people waiting to enter.
A few minutes later—
they reached the front.
One of the gate guards stepped forward.
His polished armor gleamed beneath the morning sun.
He raised one hand.
"Stop."
His sharp eyes swept across the group.
"Show your NID."
"And state your reason for entering Dresvalle."
Before anyone else could respond—
Pythia calmly stepped forward.
She reached beneath her cloak.
The guard instinctively rested one hand upon the hilt of his sword.
Then—
Pythia produced a small badge.
Silver.
Trimmed with intricate golden filigree.
Ancient runes were engraved around its edge.
At its center—
an unfamiliar emblem shimmered faintly beneath the sunlight.
The soldier's expression froze.
His pupils contracted.
"..."
For a brief moment—
he simply stared.
Then his entire posture changed.
He immediately lowered his head.
"My apologies."
He stepped aside without another question.
"You may enter."
Pythia gave a small nod.
"...Thank you."
She glanced back over her shoulder.
"...Come."
Without the slightest obstruction—
the entire group walked through the city gates.
Only after they had put several streets between themselves and the entrance did Kaelira finally break the silence.
"...That was quick."
She looked curiously toward Pythia.
"...What exactly did you show him?"
Aldric folded his arms.
"...Yeah."
He glanced sideways at the cloaked mage.
"...Don't tell me you're some kind of noble around here."
"You flashed that thing for half a second..."
"...and the guy practically bowed."
Ryke rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"...Maybe she really is someone important."
His gaze drifted toward the badge now hidden beneath her cloak.
"...Or at least someone with a very high-ranking position."
"...Guards don't usually react like that unless they're looking at someone with serious authority."
Pythia smiled beneath her hood.
"...Something like that."
Aldric narrowed his eyes.
"...'Something like that?'"
"...That's not an answer."
Pythia continued walking.
"...It answered enough."
Aldric clicked his tongue.
"...Mysterious little rat."
"...You're lucky I don't steal that badge just to see what all the fuss is about."
Pythia's smile widened ever so slightly.
"...You could certainly try."
"...Though I wouldn't recommend it."
Aldric snorted.
"...Threatening me now?"
"...No."
She answered calmly.
"...I'm simply offering advice."
Ryke looked between the two of them before quietly muttering,
"...Somehow..."
"...I'm convinced she's the scarier one."
Aldric immediately turned toward him.
"...What was that?"
Ryke stiffened.
"...Nothing."
"...Not a word."
Kaelira let out a quiet laugh.
"...Coward."
Ryke sighed.
"...Still alive."
"...I'll take that over being brave."
No one argued with him.
Draven remained silent.
His blue eyes calmly observed the bustling streets ahead.
Stone buildings lined both sides of the broad road.
Merchants called out to passing customers.
Children darted through the crowded streets.
Blacksmiths hammered glowing steel upon their anvils.
The scent of freshly baked bread drifted from nearby bakeries.
To everyone else—
Dresvalle was simply another prosperous city beginning its day.
To the group—
it was merely the entrance.
Their true destination...
lay hidden beneath it.
A motor carriage rolled to a smooth stop beside the curb.
Pythia stepped forward.
She raised one hand.
A passing carriage slowed almost immediately.
The driver leaned out.
"Where to?"
Pythia answered calmly.
"...The northern side of the Outer Lower District."
The driver gave a nod.
"Get in."
One after another—
they climbed aboard.
Draven entered first.
Followed by Pythia.
Then Kaelira.
Aldric.
And finally Ryke.
The motor carriage lurched forward.
Its enchanted engine hummed softly as it rolled through the bustling streets of Dresvalle.
Outside—
the scenery gradually changed.
Wide merchant avenues became narrower roads.
Elegant stone buildings slowly gave way to older, weathered structures.
Street vendors lined the sidewalks.
People crowded every intersection.
The farther north they traveled—
the denser the crowds became.
After some time—
the carriage slowed.
Then came to a stop.
"We're here."
Pythia stepped down first.
"...Thank you."
The others followed.
Without hesitation—
she began walking.
The group trailed behind her.
They moved through the crowded streets.
Past countless vendors.
Past workshops.
Past rows of weathered buildings.
Eventually—
they entered a narrow alleyway.
Small shops stood shoulder to shoulder on either side.
The crowds became noticeably thinner.
Pythia finally stopped before a modest storefront.
A faded wooden sign hung above the entrance.
Books filled the display window.
Without a word—
she pushed open the door.
**Jingle.**
A small bell chimed overhead.
The scent of aged parchment immediately filled the room.
Shelves packed with books stretched from floor to ceiling.
Behind the counter—
an elderly attendant looked up.
"Welcome."
His smile was polite.
"...How may I—"
Pythia's lips moved.
No sound emerged.
The old man's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
Without asking another question—
he stepped away from the counter.
Walking deeper into the shop.
He stopped before one of the towering bookshelves.
His fingers reached toward a single worn volume.
He pulled it free.
Nothing happened.
Calmly—
he turned and returned to the front counter.
Placing one hand upon its polished wooden surface.
A faint magical circle appeared beneath his palm.
Soft blue light spread across the wood.
Pythia stepped forward.
She placed her own hand within the glowing circle.
The runes immediately reacted.
A thin line of light slowly traced itself across the length of the counter.
**Click...**
The glowing line widened.
The entire counter split neatly down the middle.
Wood shifted silently.
Hidden mechanisms awakened beneath the floor.
The two halves slid apart.
Revealing a broad stone staircase descending into darkness.
Kaelira's wolf ears immediately stood upright.
"...Wow."
She leaned forward slightly.
"...A secret entrance."
Without another word—
Pythia descended.
Draven followed.
Kaelira hurried after them.
Aldric casually walked down next.
Ryke lingered at the entrance for a brief moment.
He looked back toward the peaceful little bookstore.
"...If I hadn't seen this with my own eyes..."
"...I'd never have believed it."
He cast one final glance around the quiet shop.
Then descended after the others.
The moment his feet left the final step—
the passage behind them began closing.
**Rumble...**
Stone slid back into place.
The staircase vanished completely.
No trace of the hidden entrance remained.
Only an unbroken wall of solid rock.
Aldric glanced back.
Then let out a low whistle.
"...Top-notch security."
He folded his arms.
A grin slowly spread across his face.
"...You people really are a bunch of fanatics."
He looked toward Pythia.
"...Let me guess."
He cleared his throat theatrically.
Then spoke in an exaggeratedly solemn voice.
"'As we serve the Abyss Lords..."
"...and dedicate this life to the Abyss..."
"...may the Lord open a path that leads us into the Abyss.'"
He snorted.
"...Wasn't it something ridiculous like that?"
"...A whole bunch of dramatic nonsense."
His grin widened.
"...You even hid your voice with magic..."
"...so anyone who wasn't supposed to hear couldn't understand it."
Pythia continued walking without slowing.
Her expression remained perfectly composed.
"...I won't bother responding to your remarks."
She didn't even look at him.
"...I don't recall asking for your opinion."
"...Nor do I remember inviting you."
Aldric shrugged.
"...Fair enough."
Pythia's voice remained calm and unwavering.
"...And I am no longer a member of the cult."
Only then did she glance back.
Her crimson eyes briefly met his.
"...My only devotion now..."
Her gaze shifted toward the silent figure leading the group.
Draven.
"...is to my Lord."
A brief pause.
"...And to my Lord alone."
Silence followed.
Aldric stared at her for a moment.
Then scratched the side of his head.
"...Still sounds fanatical."
Pythia turned forward once more.
"...Perhaps."
"...The difference is..."
A faint smile appeared beneath her hood.
"...This time..."
"...I chose who to devote myself to."
Draven continued walking through the dim underground passage.
He neither interrupted...
...nor acknowledged the conversation.
His steady footsteps echoed softly through the corridor—
leading the group ever deeper beneath Dresvalle.